


White Rabbit

by ContrivedCircus, FinalRemuneration (orphan_account)



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Abduction, Conditioning, Dark fic, Multi, Psychological Torture, Rape, Torture, non-con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-18 02:07:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5894011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ContrivedCircus/pseuds/ContrivedCircus, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/FinalRemuneration
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>rab·bit hole<br/>noun</p><p>2.<br/>Used to refer to a bizarre, confusing, or nonsensical situation or environment, typically one from which it is difficult to extricate oneself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

_He should have known better..._

_He had punched in the keycode to his front door before slipping into the darkened apartment with a smile on his face, however, the smile was short lived. Closing the door behind him, he noticed something a bit off – whether in the change in temperature or how abnormally quiet his office was, he wasn’t really sure._

_He still couldn’t be sure._

_None of his things appeared to have moved, but the air felt different somehow, like there were eyes on him from every corner of the room, peeking around the door frames. After stepping further inside, he moved slowly with the hairs rising on the back of his neck, going on the offense despite not having a visible threat. His hand slipped into the pocket of his coat, fingers curling around his favorite blade, ready for use. Upon silently creeping into his living room, a glimpse of movement from the second floor caught his eye. He responded immediately, but even then it would be too late. Dropping the convenience store bag in his hand, he crept forward, eyes searching, ears waiting for every little creak and shift._

_He never saw them._

Opening his eyes slowly, he stared at the crumpled white sheets of the blanket beneath his face, unmoving for the first few seconds. He was lying on his side, curled up like he had been dropped, his ears ringing and his hands abnormally cold. He blinked away the blinding light, squeezing his eyes shut in attempt to refresh his memory before rolling onto his stomach and propping himself onto his elbows. At least his limbs seemed to be working properly – no worries there. He lazily glanced around, vision hazy, taking in the bizarre and vibrantly colored room he found himself in. 

The walls were covered with a vibrant blue-striped wallpaper, not a window in sight. A modest sized dollhouse was sitting on the floor in the furthest corner - wooden dolls and furniture neatly placed inside, beside what appeared to be a sliding closet door. His stomach suddenly groaned nervously - his senses going into overdrive as he sat up fully to get a better look. The mattress beneath him sprung easily as he shifted onto his knees, glancing around quickly. Near the ceiling, shelves lined the walls full of multicolored teddy bears with bows, each of them seemingly staring directly at him. There was an end table beside the plain bed he was kneeling on with nothing but a ticking clock with no hands sitting innocently atop it. Across the room there was a dresser and a bookshelf full of thin and colorful spines. Above, there were what looked like glow in the dark stars stuck to the ceiling, as well as a wooden airplane hanging ominously above him.

“A kid’s room..?”

He mumbled to himself, his eyebrows furrowing in discontent as he continued examining his surroundings. Between two of the plush bears, he could clearly see a camera, a small red light blinking steadily at him from above. He could possibly reach that high if he moved the dresser - but that wasn’t an immediate concern of his.

Something about the silence of the room, the decor and the camera, made him uneasy. It was also notably cold. It wasn’t as though Izaya had never been abducted before, although this was the first time he had been placed in such an obscure room… almost as if it were a joke. He momentarily found it amusing, the entertainment blending in with the concern and borderline uncertainty.

Sliding his legs off the bed, the Broker’s bare feet lightly found the cold surface of concrete as he carefully stood. Looking down at himself when his pants legs brushed atop his feet, he took note of the teddy bear printed pajamas he now wore, finding them to be the absolute least of his concerns as he stepped away from the bed. Eyeing the various toys seemingly set up for him in corners and near the foot of the bed, his discontent swelled. there was even a chest with a small, toy Tyrannosaurus Rex sitting atop it, somehow mockingly.

‘ _This is probably a joke.’_  

Despite his denial, the toys, the room, everything unnerved him. Maybe he’d been caught by some perverted freak... That would explain it… but that thought alone didn’t ease the chill slinking up his spine, nor the shiver along his shoulders.

Although it was too easy, he silently moved for the white, wooden door which seemed to lead out, twisting the cold handle but finding it locked.

‘ _It’s too bad Shizu-chan’s not here to break this.’_

Smiling morbidly to himself, he pulled on the door once more before stepping back. He probably wasn’t going to get out that easily, and he honestly would have been disappointed if he could. But perhaps he could fancy something to pick the lock.

Turning away from the door, he looked around the room again, his eyes settling on something he hadn’t noticed before.

A little white rabbit sat innocently on the furthest corner of the bed, two little beads of black eyes staring back at him ominously.

Furrowing his brows once more at the stuffed toy, he slowly approached the bed, pressing one knee to the mattress as he reached for the stuffed animal. The plush, white fur felt soft against his hand as he pulled the toy closer. Examining it curiously, he pulled a small, purple bow from it’s head, discarding it on the floor as he turned the toy over. There didn’t seem to be anything particularly special about it, and no amount of squeezing it seemed to expose a secret storage compartment. Carelessly tossing the rabbit back onto the bed, he glanced at the camera once more.

“I think it’s about time you show yourselves...” He smiled, watching the blinking light for a few seconds before looking away, glancing over towards the sliding door he had noticed prior. He hadn’t checked the closet yet, and so he headed over there next, attempting to slide the door open. Despite the weak feeling of the door beneath his hand, it failed to budge. Pushing on it a bit harder, he eventually gave up, stepping back from the door in annoyance.

Glancing around the room again, he moved to stand on the fuzzy purple rug by the dollhouse, letting his chilled toes momentarily warm up. He glanced back down at the ridiculous pajamas he was wearing – a soft shade of blue with a pattern of little bear faces - and he momentarily wondered what had happened to _his_ clothes.

The better question was: what had happened to him?

He could hardly remember returning home with quick food, something about work piling up and he had forgotten to eat. And then…

And then he had ended up here.

He sat down on the rug, running his fingers through the purple strands, eyes straying over to the dollhouse. Maybe… there was something in there he could break off to pick the lock? He leaned over onto his knees, pulling the house closer to him so that he didn’t have to leave the rug. Picking it up he dumped its contents out onto the rug, examining all of the little wooden objects that fell out. There were the usual furniture, all nicely painted in bright colors, but the human figures had Izaya setting the doll house back down on the floor, left hand coming down to carefully pick up one of the figures. He brushed his thumb over a mop of tawny blonde hair, knocking off what looked to be a pair of blue sunglasses from the figure’s undefined face.

‘ _What the fuck…’_

He narrowed his eyes, setting the toy down before carefully inspecting the next two. He picked up the next one, short black hair and dressed in a fashionable white suit, the classy shoes to go with it. his eyes drifted down the third doll, his eyebrows creasing mouth turning down at the corners. The doll still lying on the floor was completely naked, shaggy black hair sticking up everywhere.

_The naked doll looked an awful lot like him._

Before he could inspect them further, the door suddenly rattled, a key noisily sliding into the door handle from the other side.


	2. Chapter 2

He jumped where he sat, knocking a bunch of toy furniture over onto the floor. Quickly standing back up, he dropped the doll, watching the door with slitted eyes. Should he attack immediately? He was equipped to fight hand-to-hand even if he didn’t have a weapon, but even so, would that be his best move? None of the suggestions his mind gave him were enough, his stance changing to find his balance as the lock on the door finally clicked over.

The door opened slowly at first, starting with a tiny crack showing him nothing, before quickly swinging open and exposing a bright, white light. The light covered whomever stood in the doorway and instantly blinded him, forcing Izaya to turn his head, squinting away before feeling large, warm hands tightly grip his forearms. He couldn’t tell how many they were from the blinding light, but he knew there were at least two by the double grips they had on him. Immediately jerking away, he struggled against their hold, trying to slip free even though he had nowhere to go - much less an idea of where he was. It was largely a battle of strength, and so his resolve to struggle subsided.

He could bide his time. They couldn’t keep him forever.

Once they had him secured, the light turned off from outside the door, white spots largely decorating Izaya’s vision as they begin pulling him towards the exit. He stumbled along with them, their heights and grips throwing off his balance and making it hard for him to walk.

“What sort of welcoming party…” He mumbled, trying to get a good look around as the unknown people guided him out of the room. Despite the spots in his vision, he was able to glance up at a few of their faces - or rather the masks covering them. Each of the four people wore eerie, identical, porcelain white rabbit masks with elongated ears and bloody red eyes. There was just enough texture to define the features of the nose and cheeks - everything else appeared smooth. The men themselves were large, masculine in build and wearing grey button-downs with black slacks, as they silently dragged him through the door. It felt surreal, like something out of a horror movie as he was pulled from the vibrant, children’s room and into the dreary connecting hall. There were dull yellow lights spaced far apart on the walls, illuminating the hall just enough to fend off the lightest shadows.

The floor in the hallway was also cold concrete, the walls grey cement. There were no windows or doors from what he could see, however a bounty of shadows, corners and turns prevented him from seeing too far. Tilting his head back slightly, he noted that even the ceilings were too high for him to even hope of escaping through there. Still unsure of how to handle his current situation, he looked up with the faintest interest as the Masks remain paused in the doorway of the creepy children’s room. One of the men in front turned to look back at Izaya from over his shoulder, the blood red eyes of the rabbit mask hiding his true gaze and expression. The Informant felt his hands grow cold, eyes narrowing back almost challengingly. He couldn’t see their faces, and their body language was unreadably casual.

What was he trying to accomplish?

The man turned around slowly, an eerie shadow playing across the grooves of the porcelain rabbit mask that covered only his face. He was taller than the rest, not quite as bulky, and he took a few steps towards Izaya, who automatically tensed up.

The man moved past the informant with what could have been an amused side glance, disappearing back into the room in which they had all just left. The remaining three men simply waited, and so Izaya aimed to calm the unnecessary quickness of his heart rate. He shivered, the hall several degrees cooler than the room, his eyes darting around to try and see something, _anything_ , besides the vast span of grey halls. Their behavior left him curious, but his surroundings left him anxious.

It was ten deep breaths later when the Masked man returned, startling Izaya out of his calming trance. He once again passed by Izaya with a lingering side-glance, but this time he stopped right beside him. Reaching out his right hand, the Masked man displayed the fuzzy, white, plush rabbit Izaya had thrown earlier. The Masked man nodded the toy’s head playfully in Izaya’s face, like one would do to entertain a small child.

Unamused, Izaya simply scrunched-up his nose at the playful plush kiss that followed, the normally chatty and smug informant finding himself in a momentary loss for words. The situation was too surreal, a phantasmagoric event loaded with childhood fears and horror. It was difficult for him to even process a logical reaction. What could he possibly do? Perhaps for now, he should quietly observe?

“Is that yours?”

The Masked man didn’t hand Izaya the rabbit - he simply held it carefully like it were a pet and walked on. The two men flanking Izaya proceeded to drag him down the hallway, none of them uttering a single word.

The hallway Izaya was pulled through connected directly from the child’s room, before sharply turning left and taking them down a long, straight passage. Izaya wanted to comment on the wastage of space, but held his tongue. There were no doors along the way, no sudden windows, so his only assumption was that they were underground - which would explain why it was so _cold_. There was something… very strange about the whole situation, the fact that he wasn’t going to be spoken to simply adding to the severity.

The men walked two in front and two beside him, the guard completely unnecessary for just him - unless they had expected him to be trouble. All of the men remained silent as they dragged him down the passage just as silently as before, leaving nothing to be heard aside from their heavy footsteps and gentle breathing. The Masked men stopped only once they reached a thick, metal door at the very end of the hallway, a single light hanging from above it.

One of the men in the front pulled out a small ring of keys, flipping through until he found the largest one and dug it into the lock, pushing the door open with his shoulder. It creaked open, metal gyrating against concrete, sending shiver straight down Izaya’s spine. The two in front stepped inside first, each of them branching off to the right side of the room. As they drug him inside, Izaya squeezed his eyes shut for a brief moment to try and alleviate the blinding spots across his vision, attempting to see get a good look around the room only seconds later, spot included. They drug him in, his two up-close and personal new friends holding him tight while the other two crossed the room to a counter, opening a high cabinet door and turning on a tap. One of the men began washing his hands in a deep sink, Izaya’s head tilting at the peculiar act.

The room looked a lot more dangerous than the last, but the men weren’t acting to fit that assumption.

An old but sturdy looking medical table had been rolled into the middle of the room, slightly beaten and battered from what was clearly years of use. Beneath it hung little hooks as well as a small, empty shelf near the floor. Four cuffs were chained from each corner of the table as makeshift restraints, no doubt capable of holding him down. Izaya couldn’t take his eyes off the table, as much as he hoped he wasn’t going to find himself on it, he knew better.

Forcing his eyes away from the table, he noticed a flat-screen TV hovering a few feet above the medical table, held in place by an adjustable arm which connected to the low ceiling. The TV left him tilting his head in confusion as to what it could possibly be used for. Two rotating camera’s sat in opposite corners of ceiling, the walls lined with enormous, metal cabinets and shelving. It all seemed very medical, and Izaya couldn’t help but be amused that his first thought was of Shinra. He almost felt the need to giggle.

However, the Informant’s look around abruptly ended as the two men roughly drag him towards the table. Holding onto his arms with a bruising grip, the one to his left let go of a forearm in favor of tugging Izaya’s pajama pants down in one swift motion, wrapping one hand around his bare thigh tightly as he forced him to step out of the unsightly garment.

“Hey, wait-.”

Before Izaya could finish his sentence and regain his balance, the other man forced his shirt over his head, discarding it on the floor. The forceful stripping of his clothes had the Broker’s fist balling and drawing back to land a rough punch. However, before his fist could make contact- the Masked man grabbed him by his upper arm, stopping Izaya’s swinging fist in mid-air.

Together, the two men picked the naked informant up by his arms and thighs, forcing him onto his hands and knees on the cold table. He tried to fight, panic consuming him, but just like before he found it difficult. There were enough to keep all of his limbs down at once, one holding both of his ankles and one wrestling with his wrists. The third was attempting to secure him with the restraints which would’ve limited the movements of each of his limbs. Izaya tried to keep an eye on what they were all doing - the fourth Mask, where did he go? - but he found it difficult with the position he had been placed in. Unwilling to cooperate any further, he struggled against them, attempting to kick and pull at any hand or face he could find or feel. The fight, despite going on for a few long minutes, ended with him being slammed down onto the table, shoulder colliding painfully when they tried to flip him onto his back. He bit back a groan, his head hitting the cold metal surface just hard enough for his vision to momentarily white out, and that was all the time they needed to secure him down onto the table.

His wrists were pulled up beside his head and strapped down, his ankles being tightly tied to end of the table.

Izaya arched his back the second they released him, pulling uselessly at the restraints as a chill set into his spine. The hairs on his arms were rising, his skin prickling from the temperature, and he found himself starting to shake.

The tallest Mask of the four suddenly appeared in Izaya’s line of sight, startling the Informant into audibly gasping. The Mask had thrown a doctor’s lab coat on, as well as blue surgical gloves, that little plush rabbit still in his hands. He leaned over with it for Izaya to see, nodding the rabbit’s head playfully, bopping him on the nose with it again.

“What’s with the rabbits -”

The Masked man gently stroked the side of Izaya’s face, which only caused him to jerk away, eyes narrowed and jaw locked shut. The belittlement was starting to irritate him, causing him to seethe. The Masked man retracted his hands as one of the others rolled over a small medical stand, several stainless steel instruments sitting atop a blue cloth. Izaya glanced at it for only a moment before the Masked man gripped his jaw with a thumb and forefinger, forcing the rabbit back into his face.

Izaya tried to look away, practically jumping out of his skin when the TV overhead suddenly turned on. Children’s music emanated from it, playing loudly in the room with distracting, flashing colors. It left him feeling… _confused_. Why was that there? What was its purpose?

A prick in his arm suddenly demanded his attention, however when he turned to look, the Masked man was standing over him and in the way with that damned rabbit.

_‘Are they taking blood?’_

He glanced up, not recognizing the show that was playing above him, his mind spinning in absolute _confusion_ as to what these men were trying to get at. Were they treating him as a child? For what purpose?

_‘Why cartoons?’_

He tried to struggle and slip out of the restraints once more, but the man hovering over him held him still by his elbows, the plush rabbit dropping down to the table for a precious moment.

“What -.”

With his vision mostly blocked by the Masked man and the rabbit, he was unable to see what the three other men were doing. Stuck atop the cold table with a needle in his arm, he felt warm hands all over him suddenly, pulling at the skin on his legs and stomach and feeling over his limbs. Gritting his teeth, he came close to shouting at them to stop touching him, the shout catching in his throat as one of the men lifted the fallen rabbit again, setting it between his arm and his body so his hands were free.

The Masked man who seemed to have made it his personal mission to keep the rabbit with Izaya, suddenly pointed up at the TV. Glancing up at the cartoons, Izaya waited to see if there was something he was missing, something he was being told. Subliminal messaging? Maybe the show itself was their creation and held the key to his escape?

Watching what was starting to look like a normal kids show, his eyes snapped away again when the majority of the hands left his body. He was breathing hard, his mind coming to dead ends as he tried to process what they wanted from him. They couldn’t want information - no, this would be too round about.

The sound of a jar being opened caught his attention before one of the Rabbit-men gripped his flaccid penis.   
He immediately felt panic well up in his chest. “Stop! What are you doing?!” He pulled at the restraints, struggling to sit up and see what they were doing.

The man standing between him and the needle in his arm, lifted the rabbit again and pushed Izaya back down. Setting the rabbit atop Izaya’s chest, he blocked Izaya’s view of the others. Struggling more from beneath the make-shift restraints, the Informant’s body tensed as he felt something pressing against the tip of his penis.

“Wait!”

Gritting his teeth, he felt the object being pushed inside, drawing a small gasp from him. The man holding the rabbit to his face continued nodding it’s little head, occasionally bobbing Izaya’s nose with it as if trying to calm a child. Pulling roughly against the restraints, he felt a hand settle onto his stomach, rubbing lightly as pain drew from the object rubbing around the inside of his length. Pressing his head back against the table and closing his eyes, a small pulsating headache begun at the front of his skull. Surely this was a nightmare.. This couldn’t be real.. Rabbit men.. Strapped naked to a table... This was a nightmare...

Giving a quiet sound of discomfort as the object was slowly pulled out of his penis, the Informant’s eyes rolled back up to the cartoon’s, distracting himself from his situation.

When they removed the unknown object from him, Izaya let his gaze draw down again, doing his best to see exactly what they were doing. However, same as before, he found the rabbit pressed to his face and obscuring his view. The whole of his anger was beginning to bubble inside his chest; frustrated by his situation, embarrassed to be so exposed, curious by the objects being placed inside such sensitive areas... Although… It wasn’t as though Izaya didn’t have any idea what they had slid into his penis. He wasn’t so daft as to completely overlook something so basic... Even still, he didn’t want to admit it to himself, didn’t want to know why they would _need_ to run an STD test on him.

Izaya kept his eyes mostly drawn to the TV after that, his mind spinning, working, observing what he could see before looking up at the non-sensical cartoons again. He had mostly given up talking to them, frustrated by their silence and the rabbit they persistently pressed against his face. His frustration was what had him silent as they went on to run a basic physical on him. Feeling over his body, taking his temperature, checking him for Cancer, even going so far as to slip a finger inside him, the intrusion burning. The men forced him to cough with a swift punch to the stomach, writing something down before withdrawing the intruding finger afterwards. Maybe it was human trafficking… Perhaps it wasn’t through a Japanese mafia, maybe it was through the Chinese or even Koreans?

Still so frustrated, he looked away from the cartoons as the TV was suddenly turned off. After pulling the needle out, the Rabbit-masked men helped him up, letting him slide from the cold table and onto the freezing concrete below. Izaya nearly collapsed from how tense he had been, knees threatening to give out, but there were arms holding him up so his face did not meet the floor. The Informant shuffled awkwardly away from the table, legs shaking from the cold and embarrassment, eyes glaring daggers due to the violation of his body. If _any_ of them touched him again… well… there was nothing he could do.

Not at the moment.

One of the shorter Masked men approached him with a fresh pair of clothes. Izaya automatically obliged to the prospect of being covered, and even allowed the Masked man to help him into the fleece _UFO_ pajama bottoms and a simple black t-shirt.

“What are you doing?” He asked when he was covered, teeth almost chattering as he wrapped his arms around himself. There were gentle hands on his shoulders for support, and his mind was swimming in absolute confusion.

_‘It doesn’t. Make. Any sense.’_

“What do you want?” He tried, eyes seeking out the taller of the group, the most interactive of the group. The taller one instantly turned with the little plush white rabbit, approaching Izaya slowly while holding the little stuffy out, almost in offer.

Clicking his tongue, Izaya’s eyes landed on the plush with distaste. _What is with this thing?_ Forcefully cracking a smile, he glanced up to the bloody red eyes of the mask. “If this is a game,” he started, ignoring as the Masked man held the offered out rabbit closer, placing it in the palm of his hand so Izaya could take it. “I _will_ win.” Izaya stated with absolute certainty, eyes narrowed and still not believing that he was permanently in danger.

Ignoring his words, the Mask didn’t even move. In his irritation, Izaya did what he thought to be most appropriate.

He abruptly swatted the plush out of the man’s hands, eyes never wavering from the mask. The rabbit dropped to the ground, one of its beady eyes clinking off the concrete, echoing throughout the room.

There was a sudden shift in the atmosphere that forced Izaya to tense, all Masks abruptly freezing what they were doing and turning to stare directly at the informant. Izaya held himself, eyes still locked with those of the Mask in subtle challenge despite how nervous their actions suddenly made him feel. He could feel their eyes on them, watching.

It was almost as if he had unknowingly flipped a switch.

A hand suddenly threaded through the hair on the back of his head and shoved down harshly so that the Informant fell to his knees. He reached back, grabbing onto the hand that was holding him captive, gritting his teeth together to keep in the burning pain.The Mask who favoured the little plush rabbit casually stooped down, picking the small toy up off the floor. He brushed the rabbit off and then waved an index finger in Izaya’s face, as if to say, _‘no-no’_. A skin chilling click of the tongue rung through Izaya’s ears only seconds afterwards, the disapproving sound the first noise any of the men had made since meeting.

“What’s your problem?”

The Informant was dragged to his feet by his hair, a small gasp coming from him as he tried to keep silent. The taller Mask placed his free hand on his hip, watching the scene unfold before him as if he were amused. The skin on Izaya’s scalp was burning when he was shoved forward, a large hand wrapping painfully around his forearm. The other two Masks were already opening the door, standing aside as if taunting Izaya with the freedom.

Izaya hissed, trying to jerk his arm away, but he was dragged off towards the door, the Masked man almost successfully hoisting him up and off the ground when Izaya initially refused to walk.

“Wait -” He twisted painfully, his arm almost slipping free and his hair strands almost ripping out, but he was caught at the last second and hauled up, being thrown over the Masked man’s shoulder. the Informant’s breath was knocked from him, the blood rushing to his head as he hung almost completely upside down by the man's back. “Put me down -”

The Mask walked through the door that had been held open with swift steps, each step jerking Izaya atop his shoulder hard enough to make the Informant cough. “Wait -”

The men that had been holding the door open followed suit once the Mask with the plush trailed out, the shadows on the mask seemingly mocking. The metal doors were closed and locked, and then they proceeded to follow Izaya down the hallway.

Around the corner they went and back down the hall, until the Masked man holding Izaya kicked open the door to the child’s room, failing to so much as stop. Izaya took a quick glance down the other end of the hall, seeing it continue on away from the room with the examination table. There were no lights on that end, but he assumed that was just to keep him from planning any form of escape.

The bulky Mask carried him into the room, the lights turning on automatically. Izaya was then dropped onto the floor ungraciously, his hip and right shoulder slamming into the concrete hard enough to make him groan. He struggled to find his bearings, eventually sitting up from the ground and glaring at his captors. He had no knife, no weapon - unless he used the toys to his advantage.

At this point, he didn’t have many other options.

The taller Mask moved into the room, stopping right beside the bulkier Mask, holding the plush rabbit in the air and shaking it’s head side to side disapprovingly. Izaya narrowed his eyes, rolling his sore shoulder, before the taller Mask turned away and threw the plush through the opened door.

The second the rabbit was out of the room, the door was kicked closed presumably by the other two men waiting outside. The banging of the shutting door made Izaya tense, his heart rate picking up instantly. He felt cornered and threatened, on the floor shivering while two huge men loomed over him. He glanced around quickly for something to use as a weapon in case - rather, _when_ \- they attacked him, his eyes landing on nothing but the doll house a few feet away.

Izaya glanced to the shut door, his stomach suddenly dropping and a cold sweat breaking across his forehead. It wasn’t locked, but he knew he would never make it out. He glanced back up to the two Masks in the room, his stubbornness winning out in his moment of confusion. “That was rather rude. You didn’t have to drop me.” He stated simply, voice unwavering despite his panic.

The taller of two swiftly kicked him, a steel-toed boot crashing into Izaya’s ribcage and knocking the breath out of him. Izaya was knocked over by the blow, falling onto an elbow before curling up into the fetal position, one hand flying to his injured ribs. He held back a cry, choking on it instead.

The taller Mask knelt down beside him, grabbing onto his hair and dragging him up off the ground to his knees. Izaya glared, glancing straight up into those bloody rabbit eyes, his resolve to back down strengthening simply because he had been hit. He had been beat on a job before, and he knew now was especially the time to not give in.

He cracked a grin, licking his dry lips. “Is that it?”

A hand struck the side of his face, snapping it to the side with a hit that echoed. Shoved back down to the floor seconds after with still ringing ears, another boot collided with the back of his hip, pain shooting up his spine and causing him to arch away. More blows followed quickly after - a hit to the shoulder had him crying out. Several more kicks to the ribcage left him choking and coughing on the floor, his forehead pressed into the concrete as he struggled to get up. Next came the spearing sensation in his hips, leaving him on the ground with a moan, hands sliding flat against his sides. There were multiple kicks to his stomach and one to his lower spine, keeping him down for much longer than he had intended. It was when he didn’t get back up that he was once again dragged to his knees by his hair. Izaya coughed, struggling to catch his breath, but the defiance in his eyes was still present even if he could hardly move. The bulkier Mask shoved Izaya back onto his ass, taking a step back as if admiring his own handy work.

That Mask apparently wasn’t finished with him quite yet, a sudden harsh kick to the face knocked Izaya over onto the fuzzy little rug with a low moan, his face hitting the floor before he could even process what had happened.

The Broker’s breath had become ragged, each heartbeat causing pain to throb all throughout his torso. Pressing his face into the carpet, his eyebrows creased together and nose crinkled, his hands pressed to his stomach even though everything was hurting.

He had been beat worse. _This is nothing._

Izaya forced a smirk onto his lips, eyes narrowing with the defiance still lingering. What would they do next? Try harder or give up?

That taller Mask took a step forward and kicked Izaya over onto his back, before dropping down to where Izaya was lying on the floor. He grabbed the Informant’s chin with his forefinger and thumb, jerking Izaya’s face to the right and unnerving the Informant considering he couldn’t see where the Mask was looking. Izaya’s face was then tilted to the left, his breathing coming out a little faster until the Mask let him go, patting his right cheek almost patronizingly.

“Are you finished?” Izaya asked quietly, his voice rough but that smirk still present. His haughtiness was the only thing he could hide behind. He couldn’t quite place his finger on it - yet - but there was a reason for it, there was a reason for all of this. _Why? And to what end?_

He’d be lying if he didn’t say he was slightly curious.

The taller Mask stood up and turned away, his heavy footsteps heading towards the door. Izaya thought the two of them were finished with their little tantrum, rolling back onto his side and drawing up his knees. He tried to catch his breath, the wheezing sound grating to his ears. They wouldn’t kill him, would they?

The taller Mask pulled the door open, striding right through it so casually, even leaving the door open behind him. Izaya was tempted to run for it, tempted to try and slip past the only man still present in the room even though he knew it was futile. He eyed the entrance longingly, adrenaline kicking in and brain going into overdrive. There was one man in the room, and three more outside. He could escape even with those odds, right?

He pushed himself up panting with shaky arms, blood running down from his nose and the corner of this mouth. He struggled to get his knees underneath him for support, glancing up at the remaining Mask with a dark look. He shakily sat himself up, sore hips creaking with every movement, one hand raising to lightly touch the torn skin at the corner of his mouth.

The bulky Mask didn’t move from where he stood, crossing his arms over his chest and staring down at Izaya like a lion would its prey. Izaya was convinced he would get hit again - enough was never enough when it came to him - eyeing the heavy male wearily when the taller Mask suddenly returned to the room.

The bulkier leaned down, making Izaya flinch, grabbing for his shoulders and a leg. Izaya struggled weakly, shoving and kicking as he was picked up and carried over to the bed. The Mask attempted to gently drop the Informant.

Izaya’s thrashing had him simply dropped, his light body bouncing on the springy mattress hard enough for him to freeze tensely when the thought crossed his mind that he might bounce off the bed. Izaya sat up quickly, pushing himself away so that his back was to the wall. It was too convenient that he had been dropped on the bed of all places, a fresh wave of panic overcoming him at the prospect that they could want _more_ even still.

The taller Mask approached the bed, the little rabbit held gently in his hands. Izaya pulled his knees in to his chest, trying to put as much distance between them as possible. He could… he could _try_ and run if it came down to it.

The tall Masked man sat down at the edge of the mattress, fueling Izaya’s panic, offering the rabbit out to Izaya once again. Both of the Masked men remained still as Izaya’s eyes locked onto the mask. He expected one of them to move, for a new threat to appear. However, they remained still for several moments, the idea that the men had further malicious intentions slowly becoming unlikely. It seemed as though they only wanted for him to take the rabbit? The Informant considered the beating he had just received, what had most likely caused it, before slowly reaching out to accept the stuffed toy.

His fingers closed around it with uncertainty, eyes watching the man for any signs that he was about to lunge forward and grab him. The soft fur sunk between Izaya’s fingers when the light weight of the plush shifted into his hands.

Glancing down, the Broker stared into the toy’s beady little eyes.

He swallowed thickly, the feeling of entrapment sinking slowly into his gut.


	3. Chapter 3

They had left him trapped and alone in the empty room, the silence becoming more uncomfortable the longer he sat and waited. He had remained on the bed, his back leaning against the headboard with his knees drawn in while the stupid little plush rabbit remained clutched between his fingers. It wasn’t until the stiffness in his joints painfully creaked that he shifted to lay down, if only to stretch. He fell onto his side first, the rabbit being dropped a solid foot away from his face.

Why the rabbit?

It had to have been several hours, or at least that’s what it felt like judging by the swelling in his face and the sore pain in his torso. Why would they just leave him? Wasn’t there a reason to having him here? Between the medical exam, the rabbit, and the beating he had endured, there was nothing to make the Informant believe that he was only meant to sit quietly in this room.

He clutched the little rabbit, absentmindedly rotating it’s little plush head from side-to-side. It held importance, an importance Izaya wasn’t sure he was ready to contemplate. He didn’t dare let it go, glancing up to the corner of the room where he had spotted the hidden camera earlier. If they were watching, and he was  _ sure _ they were watching, then they were most likely just  _ waiting _ . Waiting for what, Izaya wasn’t solidly sure yet.

He was painfully sore, his ribs and back aching from the forming bruises. The Informant wasn’t up for a round two of whatever the men had in store for him. It was obvious he had gotten onto someone’s bad side, but  _ who _ ? There were a number of people who had the power and resources to hold him captive, but not too many of them would have the guts to simply do so.

‘ _ Besides the Awakusu that is…’ _

But what could they possibly obtain from holding him hostage? Besides his seemingly endless wealth of information not to mention his monetary earnings, there wasn’t much to gain. For an organization like the Awakusu-kai, money wasn’t such an object that they’d go to the length of abducting their own information resource. They could eliminate his usual ulterior motives and hidden agendas, getting what they want and nothing unnecessary.

There was a lot of benefit in that case.

But if this were the Awakusu-kai’s doing, then why go to the length of masking their men? Why hide their identity? He would figure it out eventually, given the nature of the job they wanted him to do. Dealing information was a double bladed sword; the client wouldn’t be able to gain their knowledge without Izaya gaining it as well.

Although, this was all under the assumption that his captors wanted information from him.

‘ _ But what else could they want?’ _

He sighed, eyes narrowing at the rabbit now clenched tightly between his fingers. None of this made much sense to him, and no amount of thinking about it seemed to connect the dots. Looking away from the rabbit, the Broker scans the room again. Some part of him wanted to believe this was a dream, or maybe he had been unknowingly drugged and this was just a hallucination. Although in reality... the latter wasn’t an ideal explanation either. Turning his gaze back to the rabbit, he stares into its beady, black eyes, squeezing it’s plush body gently. Izaya knew that this stuffed toy was nothing more than a stuffed toy, but he found himself searching for anything that may help explain his situation. From the dollhouse filled with creepy dolls resembling various people he knew, to the silent men with their faces covered by eerie rabbit masks. Only a few connections between himself could be made to the items in the room, and yet it wasn’t enough to give the Informant a better rounded idea of  _ who _ could be behind this.

Although Izaya wanted an explanation for his situation, he also found it somewhat entertaining. Was this one of humanity’s hidden gems? People who would go so far as to set up something this intricate just for him? Or perhaps there were other people in this place? Had he wronged them in such a manner that they felt this was their only option for revenge? Or perhaps they were complete strangers to each other and this was all happenstance… Either way, Izaya couldn’t help being a little surprised by his own failure to feel excitement at the situation, at the actions of his coveted humans. Didn’t these sort of extreme behaviors usually excite him? Inspire him?  _ ‘I should accept it even now. That’s right…’ _ Whatever revenge or experiment was being carried out on him, he could accept it as long as he was able to push for equal reactions of his own. He’d force himself to accept it. The Informant didn’t care what sort of feelings humans harbored for him, he could accept it all… Even now…After-all, things tended to get dull when all of his pushing didn’t earn him a push back.

The door handle suddenly creaked, pulling Izaya from his thoughts as the door swung open with enough noise to have him jumping back into a sitting position, the rabbit tightly in his grasps once again. Izaya glared at the door, a small smirk pulling painfully at his torn lips as he put up a mask of his own. One of the bulkier men entered the room, rabbit mask reflecting the dim fluorescent light in an eerie manner. Izaya tensed as the man entered the room, another Mask standing in the doorway just incase he tried to make a run for it.

He didn’t concern himself with the man in the doorway, his eyes flickering to the one approaching the center of the room. He was holding a… a metal dog dish in one hand, posture unreadable.

He narrowed his gaze, eyes settling on the bowl. There was a smell emanating from the man’s general direction, an oddly pleasant smell that struck his stomach immediately. His belly noisily growled, Izaya’s mask cracking for a second in both embarrassment and confusion. He watched as the man slowly knelt down, setting the metal bowl down on the concrete flooring, before getting back up and stepping away.. Izaya could see it’s contents - rice, vegetables, and some sort of meat - but he was painfully aware of the man standing in the room and guarding the door.

“What is this? Are you feeding me?”

Was it a ruse? Were they teasing him or was he actually supposed to eat it?

Frowning when the man failed to respond, he sat quietly, mistrusting and on edge. Izaya had no reason to believe the food wasn’t poisoned, although if they wanted him dead then surely they would’ve killed him by now. Aside from that, he was practically salivating, his brain telling him to just go ahead and eat because it had been way too long since his last meal... Yet at the same time he couldn’t _ just _ do it.

_ From a dog bowl, of all things. _

Izaya was hungry, but he wasn’t hungry enough to eat from a dog bowl, or to be possibly beat simply for the action.

He didn’t say anything, simply watched. The man in the mask was standing by the wall, his hands patiently clasped together. Without moving, his gaze lands back down to the bowl before flicking back up to the man, as if challenging their choice of dinnerware.

He wouldn’t do it. He  _ couldn’t _ do it.

“It smells good. Who’s the talented chef?”

Shifting back onto the bed, The Informant puts space between himself, the man and the food. He made eye contact - or the best eye contact he could with the mask - refusing to simply submit to their will. They wouldn’t be getting him to eat from the bowl like a dog simply on command.

Seemingly getting the hint, the man politely bowed before stepping away from his spot against the wall, exiting the room. The door  _ clicked _ behind him, no doubt locking, leaving Izaya alone once again.

He stared at the door, as if waiting for one of them to return and force his face into the bowl. Glancing back down, the Informant eyes the metal container suspiciously. 

Perhaps he should go investigate, just for curiosity’s sake.

Sitting the rabbit down on the pillow, the Broker shifted to the edge of the mattress where his feet once again touched the cold flooring. He gently sat himself down, the soreness in his hips and spine flaring up the moment he tried to straighten. Carefully, he padded away from the bed and the rabbit, standing over the bowl and eyeing is contents skeptically. That was definitely brown rice and vegetables, hot enough that traces of steam were rising from the bowl. The smell of the sauce hit his nose, his stomach growling once again.

Dropping down to his heels, Izaya reached out to poke at the food, inspecting it. It  _ looked _ edible, but he was very aware that looks were incredibly deceiving. He reached out, picking up the dog bowl, with half a thought to just dump out it’s contents for the sake of their reaction.

Izaya didn’t have a chance to make a decision though, for the door suddenly swung back open fast enough to startle him. Dropping the bowl in surprise, it clattered noisily back down to the ground as Izaya stood up with a defiant smirk. “Back already?”

The man stepped into the room, door slamming behind him. The man didn’t move forward, but Izaya could feel his gaze trained on him through the mask. He leaned back against the door, simply watching.

“What? Come to keep me company?” Izaya asked, looking the man up and down with a chuckle before glancing back down to the bowl. He had done  _ something _ to get a reaction, but what had it been?

When the man failed to move, Izaya knelt back down, eyes trained on the mask with while holding his smirk as he reached out slowly for the dropped bowl.

“Well, it’s no fun if you just stand there. Anyway, this isn’t poisoned right? It’d be a shame if I died here you know…”

His fingers clasped around the bowl, picking it back up, eyes glancing over the rim at the masked man. His captor suddenly straightened, pushing himself away from the door. Surprised and reasonably alarmed by this, Izaya stood as well, the bowl still in his hands. As the man walked towards him, the Informant stubbornly refused to move, his eyebrows furrowing as his smirk drops into a frown.

“Is this not alright?” He questions, fingers clenching the bowl tighter as the man stepped up into his space. He felt threatened in his looming presence, but he concealed the chill that ran down his spine all the same. As the masked man stepped up to him, Izaya expected to have the bowl knocked from his hands, if not to be physically hit. He braced himself, tensing for the unknown strike.

The man simply stepped past him, heading for the bed. Curious, Izaya turned to watch from where he stood,  the bowl still resting dumbly in his hands. Watching as the huge man leaned over ‘his’ bed, he tensed as his captor gently picked the little, stuffed rabbit up off the pillow.

He cradled the plush in his hands before turning around, nonchalantly striding past a slightly dumbfounded Izaya without even glancing his way.

It wasn’t until the man was several steps away from the door that Izaya suddenly dropped the bowl, food spilling over the rim as it clattered back to the floor. “Hold up,” He said, voice just as even as usual, no traces of fear. He was mentally chiding himself for the slight flare of panic in his chest at the departing plush, understanding the significance of the plush being in the room, if not on his person.

_ Will they actually beat me again? _ He didn’t really want to find out, not at that moment anyway. That would be an experiment for later, when his limbs weren’t struggling to support him. He took a daring step towards the masked man, who had stopped several paces from the door. Turning, the Masked man seemingly paid little mind to the Informant himself, glancing instead at the dog bowl. Raising his masked head slightly, the man seemingly looks at the Informant himself now as if questioning him.

Izaya didn’t move closer, eyeing the rabbit before glancing up to the man. Several moments passed, neither person moving, before the masked man turned to fully face him. Izaya’s heart rate elevated in anticipation, not yet sure if he was going to be hit.

The man offered the plush rabbit out. His intent didn’t seem malicious, but Izaya remained guarded as he reached forward to take back the plush. He narrowed his gaze when he received the rabbit, the man making no move to grab or strike him.

Amidst the tense silence between them, the door to the room suddenly opened again, another masked man standing on the other side. The captor already standing in the room abruptly moved towards Izaya, the informant shuffling out of the way a little too quickly for his liking. The man strode over to the dog bowl, stooping down and picking it up along with the spilled food, before turning and quietly leaving. As the door clicked shut behind him, the light in his room went out, leaving Izaya to stand awkwardly in the pitch black darkness he was left with. He couldn’t even see the rabbit in his hands.

He moved in the general direction towards the bed, confusion and slight irritation washing over him. Taking slow, careful steps until his knees hit the mattress, Izaya slowly lowered himself down towards the now familiar sheets.

_ They’re training me. _ He thought as he sunk down, curling up on his side.  _ But why? _

He glared out into the darkness, mind wandering back to before he had been taken. Could he have prevented it? Who could it have been? There were no signs that someone had been stalking him, that someone had been out to get him until the moment he had walked into his apartment that day. The person behind this had to know him, and a little more personally than just a client. Were they trying to get rid of his personality? To override it with the obedience they clearly wanted from him?

_ How long had it been? _ He figured it had been about a day.  _ How long will they keep me? _

Given their methodical planning so far, he figured it was time to sleep. The lack of lighting seemed to give that away, and once again the silence embraced him like a nightmare.

He didn’t sleep because he couldn’t sleep, but he was completely sure that they hadn’t left him for more than a few hours. The lights flickered back on, momentarily blinding him into squeezing his eyes shut as he sat up.

He could hear the door opening, his brain a little foggy from resting - maybe he had fallen asleep after all - but he didn't make any move to get up from the bed. The rabbit was still in his hands as he rubbed at his face, his nonchalance in the situation hopefully irritating to his captors.

He groaned as he sat up, the sound of metal hitting the floor catching his attention again, along with the smell that came with it.

They seemed pretty concerned about his eating habits for kidnappers.

The Informant squinted out into the room, the white fuzz slowly clearing from his vision. The same masked man who had fed him earlier, was standing over another metal bowl on the floor.

Izaya’s stomach growled again, this time with a dull ache. Poisoned or drugged, he was probably going to end up eating it at some point, seeing how he didn’t really want to die from starvation. He also doubted they intended to kill him, given their treatment. Thinking back to Namie for a moment, he recalled all the times she threatened to poison him, even still, he ate her food and never once did she actually poison it. The thought drew a small chuckle from him despite his situation, his legs sliding over the side of the bed as he looked up at the masked man again. This time, the rabbit remained clasped in his hands as he got up from the bed, stretching his sore limbs before taking a few steps towards the bowl. Izaya wasn’t sure if the man was planning to attack him, or even try to force the rabbit away from him, all he knew at the moment was that he was hungry and there was edible food being presented to him.

_ ‘Even if it’s in a dog bowl… I can work around that.’ _

“Eh? Is this breakfast food?”

Stepping closer, he peered into the bowl. Eggs, some diced tomatoes, rice, and what appeared to be sausage, lay piled into the bowl. There was enough for a meal, although it was more than the Informant was used to eating for breakfast. 

“No drink?” Izaya questioned, one corner of his mouth turning up as he slowly dropped to his knees. His ribs were aching with every slight movement, pain pounding up through his slender frame as he sat down in front of the bowl. He didn’t want to display too much discomfort, wanting instead to control the ‘pushes’ he gave his captors for each response. Sitting the stuffed rabbit safely in his lap, he reached for the dog bowl, beginning to pick it up before feeling a sharp smack to his face. It clattered back down to the floor, the sound ringing in his ears along with the pain in his face. Pausing, Izaya blinked at his bed, his face stinging a bit before he glanced up at the man. 

“Well, that was rude… I suppose this means you don’t want me to pick the bowl up huh? Well then…”

Put off by the crude way they wanted him to eat his meals, he turned his gaze back to the food. Despite his mild annoyance with their degrading presentation, he put one hand on the stuffed rabbit to keep it from dropping into his food as he used his free hand to reach into the bowl. Izaya never pretended to be too pretentious to eat with his hands. When push came to shove survival was his top priority. In this case, if survival meant eating from a dog bowl with his hands, then he would do it. Picking up some tomatoes and egg, he eyed the food before putting it in his mouth. The motion of opening his mouth so wide had his nose stinging, reminding him of the kick he had received previously. 

The food itself tasted fine, fresh and lightly seasoned. Although, the gaze of the rabbit masked man staring him down was sort of putting a damper on that. Still holding the stuffed animal in his lap, he continued to eat, leaning over the bowl until he got the last bit of food into his stomach. As Izaya sat up again, the man bent down, taking the now empty bowl and exiting the room. Just as the door closed again, it swung open once more, another masked man standing in the entry. Staring at the Informant for a minute, the man stepped further inside, a glass of water in one hand and something seemingly held in the palm of his other.

“You’re not going to feed me again are you? I already ate, so it would be a little awkward.”

As the door closed behind the new Masked man, he held out the glass of water, letting Izaya take it before extending his other palm to display three, small pills.

“What’s this…?”

Making no move to take the pills, Izaya eyed them suspiciously before looking back up at the man’s eyes, waiting for an explanation. Shoving his large hand toward him with insistence, the man seemed to urge the Informant to take the pills from him without question, remaining silent.

“I’m not going to take some random pills. I value my life more than that you know? Besides, I’ve been brought to this creepy dungeon and-,” 

Before the Broker could finish his rant, the masked man used his free hand to tightly grip Izaya’s hair, yanking his head back before pushing the pills towards him again. Narrowing his gaze into a glare, the Informant sealed his lips in refusal, his heart rate accelerating as the door clicked open once more. 

Another set of hands appeared from a second masked man, this one gripping his shoulder tightly, his other hand forcibly wrenching his jaw open. Bringing his own hands up, Izaya pushed at the hand on his jaw, trying to force him to let go in a desperate struggle to avoid the unknown pills. He would put up with a lot of things, but taking unknown drugs was not one of them. Despite his effort, the men kept a firm grip on him, the pills dropping into his throat before they sealed his mouth closed with a strong hand. Bringing the glass of water up, they opened his mouth just enough to pour the water in before forcing his mouth closed again. Struggling against them, he felt the water dripping down his chin and onto his clothes as he tried to spit it out, the disgusting taste of dissolving pills filling his mouth before he finally swallowed them Seemingly satisfied by this, the men released him. 

Izaya rubbed the back of his hand over his wet mouth, glaring up at his captors, the little 

plush rabbit clenched tightly in his hand. The pills still tasted sour at the back of his throat, his focus becoming hyper-aware of any immediate changes in his body. Stepping back, the rabbit-clad men provide him some space, although never make any movement to leave.  _ Are they watching me? _ Izaya had half a mind to stick a finger in his throat to heave up the pills, but he figured he would be stopped the second he started.

“What were those for?” He questioned, the back of his hand still to his mouth. He didn’t immediately feel different, didn’t feel weak nor was his vision going blurry like the occasions when drugs had been slipped into either his drinks or his food by his clients.

So what was their purpose?

It was at that moment that the masked man moved away from the door towards the fuzzy carpet in the center of the room, Izaya’s eyes darting towards the door daringly. He almost got up and made a bolt for it, though he knew the men weren’t that stupid - they were going to keep him there for as long as they possibly could. Surely there was at least one more man on the outside of the door, waiting just in case Izaya tried to make a run for it.

Distracted, the Informant almost fails to notice the man in the room picking up the eerie dollhouse. Focusing in on it, he frowns at the memory of the dolls inside, each one seemingly modeled after people Izaya knew, including Izaya himself..

The man approached Izaya, sitting down in front of him before setting the dollhouse down on the fuzzy, purple carpet beside them. He gestured vaguely towards the house before presenting the dolls that had made Izaya shiver during his earlier inspection. Holding them out, the masked man appeared to be waiting for Izaya to take them.

“What do you want me to do with those?” 

Izaya asked, eyeing the dolls skeptically. Would he be beaten for not taking them? It was obvious that the man wanted him to have them, but for what purpose?

The man didn’t move, his one, large hand still extended face-up with the small dolls sitting innocently in palm of his hand. The entire scene creeped the Informant out. The man before him seemed to be almost staring into his soul, urging him silently to take the weird dolls. Despite his hesitation, Izaya looks into the masked eyes before dropping his gaze to the dolls again. Reaching out, he carefully takes the blonde doll which just so happened to resemble a certain enemy of his. With the plush rabbit still secure in his other hand, he held the doll up to examine it. 

“What am I supposed to do with this?” He asked bitterly, only thinly disguising his discomfort. Thumbing at the glasses sitting on the Shizuo-doll’s face, he barely moved as they fell off, disappearing into the fuzzy carpet.

The man finally placed the remaining dolls down, seemingly satisfied with Izaya’s compliance. Reaching over into the doll house afterwards, the man moved around some of the furniture that had been jumbled when he had picked up the doll house. After selecting a small green couch, the man picked it up before holding it out for Izaya to take as well.

Narrowing his eyes at the offered object, the Broker’s mouth set in a grim line with the taste of pills still at the back of his throat. He clutched the Shizuo-doll tightly in his hand, the plush rabbit not receiving the same harsh treatment. 

“What do you want me to do with these?” He asked with an edge of sharpness, not bothering to reach out and take the offered furniture piece.

Seemingly unfazed by Izaya’s annoyed words, The man didn’t move. Remaining seated and silent, he continued holding out the furniture for the Informant to take. It was in this moment that Izaya realizes exactly what is expected of him, despite his heavy confusion and annoyance. Was he supposed to take it? Put Shizuo-doll into the chair? Sing and play and have a merry time?

Scoffing when the man didn’t respond in the slightest to his hesitance, Izaya reached out and snatched the furniture piece from his hand. Dropping it onto the fuzzy rug along with Shizuo-doll, he shot the rabbit-clad man a dark look. Izaya knew he should have been behaving a little better, given the painful punishment they had dealt him following his last outburst. However, he didn’t want to fold to their creepy ways. The child’s room, the even more childish pajamas, the cartoons, the toys… There had to be a reason to all of this and yet he hadn’t quite connected the dots yet. Any answer he came up with seemed almost too easy. Sure, they could be trying to break him down, but why? Even if they were trying to break him... under whose order? He’d already ruled out the Awakusu-kai… The Triad’s maybe? Despite all of the bizarre treatment he had received since waking up here, the pills they had shoved down his throat scared him more than anything else.  _ Terrified _ him.

His brain was completely absorbed in his own body, every slight change, every flutter of breath. He couldn’t break his mind away from the question of ‘ _ What did they give me?’ _ Would it harm him? Was their purpose to slowly deteriorate him? Would he become addicted? Would this prove to be a problem  _ after _ he finally escaped, or were they just placebos?

The Informant was brought back to the situation at hand when the masked man threw another furniture piece at him. It was a playful gesture, unfitting for such a large and muscular man, but Izaya was brought back from his inner musing to try and once again grasp what he was supposed to be doing.. 

“Do you want me to play with them? Hold them? What do you want?” He asked again, settling the plush rabbit in-between his crossed legs before reaching over and picking up Shizuo-doll once again. Izaya also picked up the recently thrown furniture piece - a little pot, how nice - before placing the plastic item atop the doll’s head like a hat.

“Look, I’m playing. How fun.” He commented dryly as he slapped the pot against Shizuo’s head in a repetitive motion.

With an exasperated sigh, he dropped the pot and the doll, glancing back over to the man. He felt tired - for good reason, he hadn’t slept after all - and the whole ‘playing’ thing was starting to grate on his nerves really fast. What had they given him with his meal? Had all of his meals been drugged ladened? Was this all just going to get harder, were they just slowly trying to kill him, or was there actually a bigger picture behind this? Was there even a reason?

He was brought back to reality once again, by the rabbit man waving his hand in Izaya’s face. The Informant’s distraction was obvious, given the way he had been staring off into the corner of the room for some time. Glancing back to the burly man, Izaya sighed, hands disappearing between his legs to grasp the little rabbit again. He picked it up, looking over it tiredly before giving his captor a defeated look.

The man shuffled the toys back into the dollhouse before he pushed the entire house off of the rug. Standing up once it was neat and tidy, he took a step in Izaya’s direction before wrapping one hand around his upper arm. The man pulled the Informant up into a standing position with Izaya getting up willingly, before directing him towards the bed. He left Izaya to stand there for a moment, stepping back and turning away towards the door. Watching curiously, The Informant observed the door opening, one of the other masked men peeking in, keeping guard as Izaya had predicted. Just as quickly as the door had opened, both men were gone from sight, the door closing and locking him in the room alone once again.

Alone now, Izaya knelt down on the bed with the plush rabbit still tight in his grasp. Dropping down onto his side, he curled atop the blankets, with the plush cuddled protectively against his stomach, despite the way the sheet bunched uncomfortably beneath his ribs. Staring at the wall, he glances at the time on the clock near his bed. As if on cue, the light on his ceiling automatically shut off, the power to his room apparently controlled somewhere else.

He didn’t want to, but exhaustion crept in leaving him to drift off into a deep sleep.


End file.
